


Glutton For Punishment

by tiger_in_the_flightdeck



Series: Tiger's Tumblr Ficlets [26]
Category: Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms, Sherlock Holmes - Arthur Conan Doyle
Genre: BDSM, Belts, Corporal Punishment, Dom!Watson, Light BDSM, M/M, POV First Person, POV John Watson, Spanking, Top!Watson, punishment kink, sub!Holmes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-10
Updated: 2013-11-10
Packaged: 2018-01-01 02:15:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 758
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1039118
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tiger_in_the_flightdeck/pseuds/tiger_in_the_flightdeck
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Holmes needs to learn to ask for what he needs, rather than irritating Watson into giving it to him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Glutton For Punishment

"My dear? Remind me again what the name of that maid was. The blonde with the blue eyes?"

Holmes grunted something unintelligible, and turned over on our sofa, tucking his knees up near his chest. “What does it matter? You’ll just turn the entire case into some farcical bedroom romance, and completely neglect to focus on the _problem_  of the situation.” He puffed a few blue rings of smoke at the ceiling and sneered.

I love him. Truly, I do. But even the strongest love in the world is hard pressed to be pleased with him when he is acting like a spoiled child.

"That’s a bit much, Holmes. Really. I was hardly even around for much of the case. What else can I write, other than details and descriptions?" I set my pen down and massaged the bridge of my nose.

"Why write them at all?" He swung his legs over the edge of the sofa and sat up, flicking his cigarette at the fireplace. It missed, and bounced onto the carpet.

When I was stamping out the smoldering embers, I glared at Holmes. “I write them so that you get more clients. So that your skills can be seen by more than a few members of Scotland Yard, and a collection of murderers.” I kicked the remains of the cigarette onto the grate and frowned at the scorch marks on the bottom of my new slipper.

"So that I make more money, you mean."

I drew myself up short, and my frown deepened. “I beg your pardon?”

"Money, Watson. My cases bring in more finances, and as my chronicler, you earn a portion of it."

"Partner."

Holmes snickered and leant back on the sofa. “If you insist.” 

I drew in a long, deep breath, counting backwards from ten. When I reached one, and still wanted to wrap my fingers around his throat, I tried again. And again. By the time I was halfway through my fourth round of counting, Holmes rocked forward in his seat and gave me a malicious little smile. 

"I’m sure you think that your role as partner should earn you at least half?"

Holmes giggled with delight when I strode across the small space of carpet and caught him by the ear. I marched him up the stairs and into our bedroom and shoved him down. Bent over the bed with his rump in the air, he widened his stance and looked back at me as I took off my belt. 

"How many insults did you give me this evening?"

"Oh, at least five, Doctor." Before I could order him to, he was lifting the hem of his night shirt to expose his backside. 

"Three lashes for each incident, then." I wrapped the belt around my fist, letting a foot or so dangle free. "You had better count." The first strike was hard, the sound of the leather on skin filling the room. Holmes went up on his toes, his long legs trembling with tension as he called out the first number. 

I was fully erect by the time he got to three. I had pushed my own night shirt up by five. By eight I was stroking myself to the sound of his punishment. Ten found me thrusting between his thighs, rubbing the length of my cock against his warm sac. 

Holmes’ high voice rose, and grew strained with each number he counted out. When he reached fifteen, he was barely coherent. I relented, and nudged his ankles with my feet to get him to tighten himself around my cock. I caressed the angry red marks on his rump with my fingers tips, and rutted against him to completion. 

When he felt my semen pulse out between his thighs and splash onto the bedding, Holmes let out a hoarse cry, and shuddered. 

I turned him over and stroked him with almost clinical efficiency, until he was begging my permission to climax. As the final tremors began to taper off, I found a few squares of soft flannel, and used them to wipe him down. I settled him onto his stomach on the bed, and smoothed cooling balm on his skin, checking him over carefully for broken skin. 

"The next time you feel you need to be punished," I chided, kissing one of the welts. "Simply tell me. There’s no reason to behave like a child, in order to get what you want." 

"It worked, didn’t it?"

I brought my palm down onto one small mound of arse in a sharp slap. 


End file.
